Page 7 of Bound By Thorns
I startled awake at the ominous sound of my door unlocking. That metallic clank, laden with dread, heralded Garret’s nightly ritual. Finished with his cigar and brandy, he sought out his version of dessert.
To him, I was just that—a dessert.
The door swung open and collided harshly with the wall next to it. Garret held the door open, a steely look on his face. His eyes were calm, but I knew too well what that calm insinuated on days Logan and the others wouldn’t give too much information.
I would’ve had the same fate as Logan, but for some reason, Garret decided that my body was too beautiful to torment and slaughter.
And he was selfish enough to not sell me either.
He’d rather fuck me than let me die a gruesome death or live a miserable existence. I thought I was relieved about that outcome. One week in, I realized how wrong I was.
Garret hastily took his shoes off, stumbling over the carpet, and walked up to the locked drawer in which he kept his equipment.
Even though I was screaming internally, I maintained the facade of calm and curiosity on the outside. One mistake and I knew he would destroy each and every person in my family.
A disgusting wet laugh escaped him as he grabbed a few things from the drawer, “You will like what I’ve planned for you tonight, darling.”
I let out a quiet, ragged breath as he stalked towards me. His hands flexed on a whip and handcuffs.
Unlike any other time I’d have thought about handcuffs, I wouldn’t have been able to imagine this particular outcome. I wasn’t just shackled—I was stripped of my voice each time.
“Lie down and take that damn red dress off. It’s pissing me off,” he barked out.
Nodding numbly, I did as I was told and waited for the nightly horror. I wasn’t always ready for his designed torture. He usually saved the bruises and pain for places that would disappear behind a sleazy dress.
His eyes gleamed in the faint yellow light of the room. Words clogged my throat. Words I’d tried to voice initially. But they’d just spurred him on.
Please stop.
But he hadn’t.
I’m not wet.
But he’d use lube.
I can’t anymore.
But he was relentless.
Here I was, stolen away, and kept as a madman’s whore until I was so used up that he wouldn’t want to fuck me.
Oh, how I waited for that day with desperation.
???
I woke up alone, as usual, with a stark pain in my lower abdomen and a fit of nausea that was almost blinding. The pain wasn’t new. It had been happening for a few weeks. I suspected an infection. But the nausea hit me like a truck on a freeway. I knew all too well what it was. I ignored it yesterday. But even without my medical training, I would know, considering this was the second time it had happened in the past two and half months I had been here.
I ran to the attached bathroom and hurled the contents of my stomach into the toilet.
Fuck, they will do it again, wouldn’t they? They will rip me apart again.
I wiped my mouth and quickly washed my face before heading to the bed again. It was still dark outside. My window had a bland view of the Ravenrock estate’s backyard. It would be a shame to call it that, though. Acres of land with a million gazebos and its own beautiful forest land.
I tried to nap again until the sun rose but my brain wouldn’t stop thinking. I kept thinking about odd things. But a constant guest in my head was a certain someone called Logan ‘Gunner’ Carlton.
Even bruised and battered, he looked handsome. I had never seen a man with a face so perfect. His blue, piercing eyes were almost perceptive enough to unearth all my secrets. But theblue-eyed stranger was gone. I knew he hated me. He had to. He wassupposedto.
I should be happy that he did. At least he wouldn’t blow my facade. But it hurt every time he would watch me with disgust filled in his eyes. Every. Single. Time.
